The town of Sundown welcomed them with the lazy, golden hush of evening. Lanterns swung from crooked posts, casting warm light onto the worn cobblestone path. The scent of salt and fish clung to the air, mixing with the sharper tang of oil from the docks.

  Cael guided Dustfoot along the narrow main road, following close behind Aeris. The mare’s hooves echoed hollowly on the stone, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his own heart.

  "We're almost there," Aeris said as she led the way.

  People watched them pass: fishermen mending nets by the water’s edge, a blacksmith dousing the last of his fires, children chasing a ragged ball between barrels stacked with dried goods. Their eyes lingered a little longer on Aeris, her Frontier Guild badge gleaming faintly.

  She always somehow managed to stand out, even in a place where everyone had seen their fair share of scouts.

  Cael kept his gaze low, not wanting to meet the eyes of the townsfolk.

  They crossed a small stone bridge and followed the road uphill toward the heart of town—the old meeting hall, which once was a storehouse for salted fish, now repurposed into something resembling a council chamber.

  A handful of horses were already tied outside. Lanterns burned in the windows. Voices rose and fell within, muffled but urgent.

  "Are we late?" Cael asked.

  "Eh, they'll live." Aeris replied as she swung down from her horse and tossed the reins to a waiting stablehand—a wiry boy of maybe thirteen who gave Cael a curious glance before leading the horses away. Cael knew that look, it was a look asking what someone like him was doing with Aeris the Raven..

  Cael hesitated a moment longer before dismounting. His legs ached as his boots hit the ground, but he straightened quickly, adjusting the worn strap of his satchel over his shoulder.

  "You ready for this?" Aeris asked, already climbing the steps.

  "Ready as I'll ever be," he muttered, following.

  The heavy door groaned open, spilling light and the low murmur of conversation into the night.

  Inside, the hall was crowded. Men and women in travel-worn gear leaned against walls or sat stiffly on benches dragged into rough rows. Guild badges gleamed in the lamplight—Frontier Scouts, Junior Scouts, and a handful of council envoys with their cleaner, more formal sashes.

  The air smelled of damp wool, oiled leather, and the faint iron tang of tension.

  Aeris scanned the room, then nodded toward a cluster of younger scouts near the back. "Stick close to me. If things turn political, best not to be caught standing alone."

  Cael nodded, slipping into step behind her. He wished he had her confidence—or even a fraction of it.

  He barely had time to settle against the wall when a voice cut through the chatter—a low, commanding tone that turned heads and straightened spines.

  "Good. Everyone's here."

  At the front of the hall, standing beneath the faded banners of Sundown, was a man Cael recognized from whispered stories, but had never seen up close before.

  Council Envoy Arlen.

  The envoy was tall and spare, his gray cloak hanging from narrow shoulders like a second skin. His hair was iron-gray, cropped short in a soldier’s fashion, and his eyes were sharp and colorless, like river stones bleached by sun.

  He looked... tired, Cael thought. And deeply, deeply wary.

  Envoy Arlen gave them all a long, searching look before speaking again.

  "You know why you're here. Reports from the cliffs. Lights over the water. And now... something more." He paused, letting the weight of those words settle into the room. "This morning, a scout found evidence of an active seal near the ruins at Wruithmarsh."

  A ripple ran through the gathered scouts.

  Aeris stiffened beside Cael.

  The envoy continued, voice steady but grim. "A seal we thought lost with the Year of Falling Stars."

  Cael's hand found the pendant without thinking. "A seal... So ancient magic." The boy thought. He didn't know all the details about seals, but even he knew that they were mostly used to lock something away, as the name would suggest, and most of the time it was for good.

  Across the room, another boy about his age shifted where he stood—a lean, dark-haired figure with sharp eyes and a guarded posture. The other Junior Scouts gave him a wide berth, though whether out of respect or annoyance, Cael couldn't tell.

  The boy caught Cael looking and offered a smug smirk that was more challenge than greeting.

  Cael blinked.

  "Great. It's him." Cael thought to himself.

  Cael broke the gaze first, feeling heat rise faintly to his cheeks.

  Not the best time to pick fights, he thought. Especially not tonight.

  Envoy Arlen's voice cut through again, harder now.

  "We cannot afford mistakes," he said. "If the seal at Wruithmarsh is truly active, we must move both carefully and fast. We can't allow that seal to break."

  A murmur of agreement, low and uneasy, swept through the hall.

  Arlen gestured to a table set at the front, where a faded map was pinned beneath smooth river stones.

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  A few older scouts and council members moved to crowd around it.

  "You'll be split into groups. Two-man patrols, rotating at the marsh's edge. No one goes near the seal itself without clearance. I’ll be selecting the first team personally."

  Cael shifted, his pulse quickening.

  "Junior Scouts will be paired with senior members," Arlen continued. "No exceptions. And no heroics. This is a reconnaissance mission. Nothing more."

  Beside him, Aeris gave a soft grunt that might've been approval—or impatience. Hard to tell with her sometimes.

  The envoy began calling names, his sharp voice bouncing off the stone walls.

  "...Elias Thorne with Meryl Vaun. Rowan Calder with Aeris the Raven."

  Cael's stomach dropped.

  Rowan Calder—the boy with the smirk, and Aeris.

  Cael did not like that pairing. He wanted to say something, but objecting would do no good. Tonight, the council's word was law.

  He barely had time to process it before Arlen moved on.

  "Cael Merrow."

  The envoy’s eyes found him in the crowd, pinning him like a moth to the wall.

  "You'll be with Dain Hollow."

  There was a slight shift near the hearth, and a figure straightened from where he'd been leaning against the stone.

  C ranked Scout Dain was a broad-shouldered man in his late twenties, his hair sun-bleached and tied back at the nape of his neck. His Frontier badge was scratched and weathered, the leather strap across his chest stained from long months of travel. He gave Cael a small, unreadable nod.

  Cael felt a knot in his stomach loosen, just a little. Dain wasn’t exactly warm, but he wasn’t a stranger either. He'd seen him around Sundown before, trading news or supplies, the kind of scout who moved like he didn’t owe anything to anyone except the road itself.

  Truth be told, plenty of younger scouts — especially the boys — looked up to him in one way or another.

  "It could have been worse." Cael thought.

  A lot worse.

  As Arlen continued down the list, Aeris brushed past Cael on her way toward Rowan Calder. She shot him a look—brief, sharp, and almost apologetic.

  "Don’t make me regret leaving you alone," her eyes seemed to say.

  Cael squared his shoulders and nodded once, hoping he looked braver than he felt.

  The rest of the assignments blurred together: names called, groups formed, the scrape of boots on stone. Orders were handed out in low voices—maps marked, patrol paths discussed, lanterns prepared.

  By the time the last names were called, the hall had shifted from a crowded mass of tension to clusters of teams, each gathered in low conference around their assigned tasks.

  Dain approached Cael, looking him over with a measuring eye.

  "You ever been near the marsh?" He asked.

  "Only once. Training run last summer," Cael said, adjusting his satchel. "We didn’t get close to the ruins."

  Dain grunted, either approval or acknowledgment. "Good. We’re not getting close this time either. Stay sharp, keep quiet, and don't slow me down. If you see anything strange, you tell me first. Understood?"

  "Understood," Cael said quickly.

  Dain clapped him hard once on the shoulder—hard enough to jolt his teeth together—then turned toward the door.

  "We leave at first light. Get some sleep if you can."

  Cael watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of relief and rising nerves. He glanced toward Aeris one last time as she conferred with Rowan near the council table. Rowan leaned in too close, smiling with an ease Cael instantly distrusted.

  He looked away before the sour feeling in his chest grew worse.

  "Sleep. Right. Like that was going to happen."

  Cael stepped out into the cool evening air of Sundown.

  Noises muted slightly as the heavy oak door of the hall shut behind him. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot of nerves that had taken up residence in his stomach. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, casting enough light to make shadows dance along the cobblestone streets.

  The tavern's lights flickered invitingly through the windows, and Cael could hear the faint strains of a lute and laughter within. It felt so inviting, Cael went in.

  Inside the tavern, the air was thick with pipe smoke and the smell of stewed meat. A half-dozen tables were crowded with off-duty scouts and townsfolk alike, some playing cards, others hunched over mugs of dark ale.

  Cael kept his head low as he weaved through the room. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk, be it about the council meeting or not.

  A short, round woman behind the bar caught his eye and beckoned him over.

  "Rooms’re upstairs," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Council’s covered your stay for the night. You'll be sharing, though—town's too full for anything else."

  "That's fine," Cael said, reaching for the key she slid across the counter.

  He didn't even ask who he’d be sharing with. It didn’t matter. He just needed a bed and a few hours' peace.

  The stairs creaked under his boots as he climbed to the second floor. The hallway was narrow, the walls slanted slightly with the age of the building. He found the right door and pushed it open.

  A small room—two narrow beds, a battered chest between them, and a cracked window letting in the cool night air.

  Cael tossed his satchel onto one bed and sat down heavily, rubbing his face with both hands. He stayed like that for a while, listening to the muted sounds of the tavern below and the distant crash of the sea.

  "A seal... If it broke, surely nothing good would come of it."

  The door creaked open again, snapping Cael out of thoughts about the mission.

  He glanced up—and immediately wished he hadn't.

  Rowan Calder leaned against the doorframe, a cocky grin tugging at the 15 years old mouth.

  "Figures," Cael muttered under his breath.

  Rowan dropped his own bag onto the other bed and stretched with exaggerated laziness. "Look at that. Roommates."

  "Yeah. Lucky me," Cael said dryly.

  For a moment, the only sound was the thud of Rowan kicking off his boots. Then, to Cael’s mild surprise, Rowan flopped backward onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, the usual edge of arrogance fading a little.

  "You from Sundown?" Rowan asked after a beat. His voice was casual, but there was a thread of genuine curiosity underneath.

  "No, my village burned down during the Year of Falling Stars." Cael answered, leaning back against the wall. "You?"

  "Rift Harbor," Rowan said. "Not far." He paused, smirking a little. "Smells better than this place, though."

  Cael snorted despite himself. "Depends which way the wind’s blowing."

  Rowan gave a low whistle. "Damn. Rough start." He laced his hands behind his head, still staring up at the cracked ceiling. "Suppose that's why you're tagging along with the Raven, huh? Charity case."

  Cael stiffened, the muscles in his shoulders tightening. "I'm here because I earned it," he said, more sharply than he intended.

  Rowan barked a short, humorless laugh. "Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself."

  The words hung heavy between them, a sour note in the cramped little room.

  Rowan tilted his head to look at Cael, his smirk creeping back. "Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Being paired with Aeris? That's the real prize tonight."

  He stretched again, lounging like a cat that had just stolen something. "She's wasted dragging around some green kid. Should be training someone who can actually keep up."

  Cael's hands curled into fists on his knees. "You don't know anything about me."

  Rowan's grin widened, slow and sharp. "Don't have to. Just watching her cover for you back there said enough."

  He let that jab sink in a moment before rolling onto his side, propping his head up on one hand. "Tell you what—after this mission, maybe I'll ask her to stick around. Train a real scout for once."

  The heat that had risen to Cael’s cheeks earlier now boiled in his chest. Cael knew this was the problem Rowan had with him deep down, that Aeris the Raven decided to train him instead.

  Rowan, clearly pleased with himself, yawned like the conversation bored him. "Could be worse for you, though. Heard you got stuck with Dain. Hope you like walking twenty paces behind someone who thinks you're too slow to bother with."

  Cael rose to his feet, the bed creaking under him. He glared down at Rowan, heart pounding. "You talk big for someone who's still a Junior Scout."

  Rowan only smiled wider, teeth flashing in the dim light. "And you get all huffy for someone who keep falling behind as a Scout."

  Cael’s nails bit into his palms.

  Without waiting for a reply, Rowan rolled over and yanked the thin blanket over himself. "Get some sleep, Cael. You're gonna need it."

  Cael stood there for a long moment, the weight of Rowan's words pressing down like a stone.

  Finally, without a word, he crossed back to his bed and sat heavily on it, staring out the cracked window.

  Sleep wasn't coming anytime soon.